


Healing

by peacehopeandrats



Series: Monthly Rumbelling 2021 [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling February 2021 (Once Upon A Time), Friendship, Gen, The Enchanted Forest (Once Upon a Time), public bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacehopeandrats/pseuds/peacehopeandrats
Summary: During his visit to the Dark Castle, Jefferson is whisked away by Rumplestiltskin, who needs help acquiring a special item. This is a little bit of Rumbelle from a distance, you could say.Written for February's Monthly Rumbelling
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Monthly Rumbelling 2021 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088708
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this fic was taken from the images of Rumple and the columns in the February Monthly Rumbelling moodboard. I also used the nonsmut prompt "I think we’re lost." Moodboard is at this link: https://a-monthly-rumbelling.tumblr.com/post/641933258078257152/prompts-for-february
> 
> My first failure to write something short for these prompts. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Then they drop the things in oil.” The imaginary sliver of meat that Jefferson held between his fingers fell into an imaginary pot of hot oil which sizzled thanks to the hiss provided by the traveler. “Delicious once you get used to the taste and texture, something a little like… chewy, sweet nuts.”

Rumplestiltskin could see the man’s eyebrows waggle suggestively without actually looking at him. He tisked sharply as he lifted his gaze to where Belle sat on the other side of the room, reading by the fire. “Why do you insist on giving others ideas contrary to the truth?” 

The page of Belle’s book turned as he snapped at his friend, but other than that single movement, there was stillness. Rumple told himself that it meant she hadn’t been eavesdropping on the conversation. Stories of exploration and adventure were a type of bait to his little maid, luring her in where she most often had no business treading. In this case, she had absolutely no business suspecting that he and Jefferson had anything between them but a very relaxed friendship, especially after the night’s festivities. He thought about how her body moved when she danced and nearly dropped the vial he was holding.

Hissing at his own clumsiness, Rumple swatted away Jefferson’s attempt to reach for something on the table and shooed his friend to step farther away. Never before had he cared what others thought of their relationship, but quite suddenly he was feeling a growing agitation at the idea that Belle might suspect anything. He wanted to keep the idea of anything other than friendship hidden from her, locked away in a secret past that she would never know. He studied the fire’s dancing light as it caressed the waves of her hair and the creamy shape of her cheek and convinced himself that it was the rumor alone he didn’t want spread around. Rumors were bad for deal making… somehow.

Quite suddenly, the Dark One’s entire view was filled with chest and shoulders and he batted at the attached body in frustration. “You’ve had your merriment for the night. What more do you want?” The words came out sharper than he intended and he wished he could suck them from the air the moment he met his friends gaze.

“Well, you’d know that if you were listening to _anything_ I said just now,” Jefferson reminded him. Though his tone was lighthearted, there was sadness nestled in the words. The man tried to cover it with a bright smile and even more flirtation, but Rumple had known him long enough to see the truth. Bowing with a flourish, Jefferson tipped an imaginary hat. “Anyway, I must be on my way to bed. Some of us actually sleep, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Rumple waved him away and returned to his work. “The usual hour for breakfast, I assume?”

Jefferson’s smile widened, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Sounds delightful.” He turned then and moved to wish Belle a good night before leaving them in peace.

Holding in a sigh, the Dark One closed his eyes to recenter his thoughts, then began his work again. When the curse was put into place he would need to make certain that the failsafe would protect him. It would be pointless to go through all of this trouble to get to a land without magic just to be caught up in whatever evil torments Regina had planned for her increasing collection of foes. He knew she would want everyone to suffer as she had, which would involve keeping them from their happiness, but _his_ happiness needed to stay intact. Baelfire had to remain within his reach. He needed something more powerful than any curse, something that could be guaranteed to survive whatever horrible fates Regina had in store for the people of this realm.

As he studied his latest failure, the glint of something caught his eye. Pulling his gaze down to a cleared space on the table, Rumple watched a flame from a nearby candle dance over the surface of a single, gold coin that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He plucked it from the wooden surface and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the imprint that marked it as currency from a far off land, one nearly surrounded by the sea. The thin, swirling lines on the otherwise smooth surface would look like a child’s scribble to most, but his knowing eyes recognized the representation immediately.

Hope sprang anew in his chest and he all but cackled with glee. With the coin pinched tightly between thumb and finger, Rumplestiltskin tapped the pads of his other fingers together in excitement. “I have somewhere to be,” he announced through a delighted giggle. Leaving the table, he strode toward the door, continuing to talk to Belle from over his shoulder as he left. “I’m afraid I’ll need to take our visitor with me. The child is upstairs sleeping. We’ll be back before she wakes.”

“But… You… Rumplestiltskin!” His maid’s confusion echoed in the space he left behind, but he refused to grant her the time required to answer the myriad of questions that would soon be pouring from her. Only the journey was important now, that and the item acquired at the destination.

Once beyond her sight, the Dark One took off at a full run, charging through hallways, skittering around corners, and tackling the stairs with a grace gifted to him by the magic that could just as easily have transported him to the chamber of the man he was after. He didn’t want to arrive at the room first, however. It would be wildly inappropriate, given the push and pull of their current relationship and seemed more threatening besides. A hideous monster lurking in shadowed corners, awaiting for his guest to appear in the chamber prepared for him wasn’t someone who was going to get what he wanted. It was too much the thing of fanciful novels and grisly tales.

Ahead, the light tap of boot heels could be heard and he increased his pace, wanting to reach Jefferson before the man checked on his daughter. Once he saw her peacefully slumbering face, convincing the traveler to leave her, even if only for a few hours, would be nearly impossible. The man was pure, paternal perfection of the type that Rumple had always wished he could claim as a trait of his own. He would not deny his friend a chance at uninterrupted fatherhood. It was the whole purpose of this visit, after all, even if Jefferson was completely unaware of it.

As he rounded a corner, Rumplestiltskin collided with a wall that shouldn’t have been where it was. The stone chuckled and wrapped solid warmth around him to keep him from falling backwards into an undignified heap, then spoke. “If you wanted me that badly, you could have just asked…”

Rumple knew he should have responded, knew his friend deserved explanations, but also understood that if given even a moment to think, Jefferson would deny him what he so desperately needed. So instead of opening his mouth, the Dark One simply lifted a hand in a gesture that served the dual purpose of breaking Jefferson’s hold on him and summoning a cloud of magic to envelop them. The purple smoke thickened to remove all visual traces of their location and left him with only the chuckle of the traveler’s laughter.

“Or don’t ask and just whisk me away.”

The words were a knife to Rumple’s flesh, peeling back his thick skin to expose the softness beneath. Jefferson wanted so much and had no idea he was about to be denied not only his hopes of an eventful evening, but the proximity to his daughter that he so desperately needed. Rumplestiltskin could feel the darkness within him crawling through his veins, expanding with the pleasure of another’s torments, but the part of him that was still a father, the part locked deep within his heart, cringed with pain. This was his closest friend, someone he was trying to protect from what was to come, yet fate had stepped in and insisted that he use the man instead. Twice. 

_I’ll make it right,_ Rumplestiltskin promised himself as the smoke cleared, even before the wave of anguish crashed over Jefferson’s face.

“Grace.” Pain filled the man’s eyes as they darted around the seaside port that surrounded them. It was early morning here and the sun’s first rays struck them directly in the face, forcing Jefferson’s lids to squint against it, even as he searched the area. “Where’s Grace?!”

Reaching up to gently clasp his friends arms, Rumplestiltskin gazed up at him and willed all of his understanding to pour into Jefferson. “Safe. Belle is with her and no one can get to her in the castle.”

“Neither can I, from here!” Jefferson’s wail of anguish was accompanied with a twist of his body and the running of his fingers through his hair. “I said I wouldn’t travel again. I can’t leave her.” It seemed to Rumple as if the man were about to pull a nonexistent mask from his face and he quickly reached up to snatch Jefferson’s wrists, preventing the clawing action before it could begin.

“Do you think _I_ would allow _anyone_ to keep you here?” The words were a hiss of anger, releasing the resentment he felt over the unspoken accusation. Rumple glared into Jefferson’s eyes, refusing to allow him to look away until the icy chill in them began to melt and the other man’s body eased into a more relaxed position.

Jefferson jerked his hands down to his sides, breaking Rumple’s grip on him. “You _can’t_ just take people away from their loved ones like that.” Slowly he leaned forward until his mouth almost caressed the Dark One’s ear, his breath touching it in a whisper. “ _You_ should know that more than anyone.”

An image of Baelfire came to Rumple’s mind and he flinched away from it. He knew he should say something, form an apology or explanation, but so many years of self enforced solitude had broken him from the proprieties of normal society. From his position, and after so many years, he knew the dangers of the spoken word.

Gulls and other sea birds filled the silence instead, calling from over the water or from where they squatted along the abandoned docks. With no other signs life visible at such an early hour, it was possible to almost believe in the peace of the sea, the healing nature of the place they had come to. This land was known for its hot baths that were said to restore youth and cure ailments. It was also known as a place to come for specific delicacies caught in the sea and for this reason, Rumple tossed the golden coin at his friend, who caught it deftly.

“You left that,” he told Jefferson with a sneer.

Jefferson looked down at the coin in his hand, then raised it up to the Dark One’s eye level and shook it threateningly. “ _This_ is why you ripped me away from my daughter? For sea food?” He rolled his eyes and strode several paces away before turning back to glare in Rumple’s direction. “You could have _asked_. I would have had you bring _all_ of us here. I’m sure Belle would have enjoyed a little time away. A vacation? A long bath shared with-”

“Ah, but that’s the point!” Rumple cut in before Jefferson could continue his suggestion any further, wagging his finger under the man’s nose. “I don’t need Belle or Grace for this little adventure of ours and if we’d brought them along they would have wanted to explore. I need to get in and out. No questions.” He made a gesture from one side of his body to the other as if that demonstration would help prove how little time this excursion would take.

“So why did you bring _me_?” Jefferson’s head tipped in confusion.

“Because what I need is also a very dangerous thing to _me_.” Leaning closer as he spoke, Rumple tapped a finger to his own chest to emphasize his point. “I can’t have it trapping me away from the castle and leaving me exposed to the whims of everyone around me. I need _you_ to carry it for me.” His finger moved to poke at one of the buttons on Jefferson’s vest. Beneath it, he could see the man’s breath quickening, so he hastily retreated.

Jefferson’s mouth quirked into a shape that easily advertised his uncertainty, but he spoke with the smallest hint of mischief in his eye. “What’s the plan?”

Rumple sighed and turned to face the small fishing village that had been built up on the side of the long-dormant volcano that was the face of this side of the island. Houses appeared to be stacked on top of each other, greenish roofs cascading down to the ground below. There was one cobbled road that lead from the docks into the collection of buildings, but it simply vanished once it curved along with the hillside. He pointed a finger into the distance, then raised it to one of the houses at the uppermost levels. It was a large place, with a gap between it and the buildings at either side. “We’re going there,” he said. “And I’ll make a deal with you. We acquire the item, you tuck it away safely in your pocket, and we poof away back into the night.” 

“How long will it take?” Jefferson’s eyes were now on their destination, probably judging the distance from their current position.

Wanting to get moving, Rumplestiltskin waved the question away and started walking toward the city. “Only as long as it takes to find the person I need. Ship’s not here.” He nodded back at the empty dock, assuming a question of how he acquired his knowledge was what would hit him next.

Thankfully, Jefferson asked no further questions and after a few more strides, Rumplestiltskin heard the man’s footsteps hurrying along behind him. When the traveler caught up, the Dark One slowed so that they could fall into stride together and Rumple could see the man’s tension in the way he carried himself. He knew some of what had happened in the man’s past, of course. After swearing off thieving for the sake of his family, Jefferson had traveled to steal an object that would provide for them when they needed money most. There he’d been captured and Grace’s mother killed, but all of the other details of Jefferson’s story eluded him. Had the man been tortured? There was a sense of trauma about him that was as obvious to a man with Rumple’s past as breaching whale would be to any of the sailors they would run into here. 

After some traveling in silence, Jefferson spoke up. “You can trust some of us, you know.” The words seemed to come out of nowhere, slicing through the silence they shared as they followed the narrow, winding streets.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rumple hissed back in a whisper. It wouldn’t do to have his personal history brandished about in front of the locals. His anonymity was what kept him safe, what made certain his plan would not fail. If anyone knew the truth about his past or what his weaknesses might be, he might never find Bae.

Jefferson smiled sadly. “You think I can’t recognize a tortured soul?” He had taken the hint and made certain that his words were barely audible. “Whoever hurt you, whatever they did, you have to know that not everyone would do the same.”

Rumple shot him an angry glare. Jefferson was one to talk. Hadn’t he been the one practically wailing about the separation from his daughter only moments ago? 

“You try to hide it, but there is kindness in you,” Jefferson insisted with a hiss of breath into Rumple’s ear. “And love.” He leaned closer to bump against Rumple in a friendly nudge of encouragement and shot him a winning smile. “And I’m not the only one that sees it.”

“You don’t see it,” Rumple griped. “You’re making it up. I brought you here because I needed you. You’re a pack mule. Nothing more.”

For some unfathomable reason, these words, meant as a stab directly at Jefferson’s heart, only made him laugh. It was a beautiful sound that turned the heads of the few citizens who were going about their early morning routines. It brought smiles to the faces of everyone around them, at least until they noticed who Jefferson was traveling with. At that point everyone hurried about their business. 

Undisturbed by his company or the fears expressed by others regarding it, the traveler carried on. “Then why not have me sleep in the stable instead of your finest room? Drink from the trough instead of your finest tea set? How _did_ that one cup get chipped, by the way? And why don’t you just _fix_ it? I mean, you’re the all powerful Dark One. You _must_ have something in your magical repertoire that can just…” He rolled his hand through the air as he tried to come up with a solution to Rumpelstiltskin’s nonexistent problem. “Replace it?”

“Why would I do that?” Rumple snapped back before he could stop himself. The words so startled Jefferson that the man almost stumbled. People walking toward them were now actively avoiding the pair as they maneuvered the twists and turns that climbed to their destination. The attention they were receiving worried him. If anyone decided to start warning the others of the Dark One’s arrival, the fisherman he sought, whose house sat at the top and looked down at all of the less fortunate, might have time to prepare for his arrival. He needed to find them and make a deal, not waste time destroying everything they owned in the hopes of finding what he’d come for. Simply to curb Jefferson’s urges and avoid such an occurrence, he gave the man what he wanted.

“You want a story? I’ll tell you a story. There was once a small boy who was abandoned first by his mother, who had refused to name him, then by his useless dunk of father, who had gifted him with a name befitting the hate he felt for the child. That boy grew up. He met and married a woman who claimed to care for him, but later discovered the courtship and marriage was only meant to provide a father to a child she thought she might be carrying for someone else. He cared for her, even loved her, but once she knew the marriage hadn’t been necessary, she began to despise him, ridiculed him for everything that he was. At rare times, she tried to make their marriage work, but when pregnancy did come, it changed her and she left him for another. He raised their son alone and loved that boy with all of his heart, took on the weight of all the realms to keep him safe, but one day fate _snatched_ the boy from the man’s arms and threw him to where he would never be seen again.”

The story ended just as they reached their destination and Rumplestiltskin turned an icy stare at Jefferson, whose wide eyes blinked down at him sadly. “Did that story meet your expectations, Mister Hatter?”

Jefferson blinked at him, mouth working silently for a moment before anything could come out. “Um… Sure,” he muttered dumbly.

“Fine.” Rumple turned and delivered a sharp knock to the door they now faced, which opened almost immediately afterward.

The woman inside paled when she saw her visitor. “Dark One.”

“Ah, my reputation reaches even as far as this coast. Excellent,” he tittered back in return. He tipped his head in imitation of a curious animal, knowing from experience that the act would earn some trust and make his hosts question the crudity of the stories they’d been told. “I’ve come to make a purchase from the head fisher of the household. Might that be you, by any chance?”

“No, sir. My husband. But he’s out on the sea. You and your companion are welcome to wait inside for his return. It should only take a short time. I’ve just seen them docking moments ago.” She stepped away from the entry and urged them inside with a determination that spoke of someone who didn’t want to be caught fraternizing with the Dark One in her doorway. It was always better to keep the demons you dealt with out of the sight of your neighbors.

“You hear that, I’m your companion,” Jefferson answered back with a grin. They stepped inside and he eyed the small space carefully, body leaning to the side in order to get a better view through the small window they faced and into the noticeably large courtyard that made up the center of the home. “Actually, I think we’re lost. Or, well, he’s not, but I am. I was wondering if you could point me to the nearest bath.”

“We have our own,” the woman said quickly, gesturing to the courtyard that the traveler was practically drooling over. Of course Jefferson would recognize the layout of these homes. He was probably all too familiar with some of them. “You and the Dark One are welcome to it, of course.”

The woman eyed Rumple carefully. She was clearly getting the wrong idea of their relationship and the continued misunderstanding was beginning to grate on Rumple’s nerves. “I’ll wait,” He hissed, flitting his fingers in a random direction, hoping Jefferson would simply walk off without him. 

“Nonsense.” Jefferson beamed and caught Rumple by the arm. “This good lady is offering and I would be happy to accept. How else will we spend our time waiting?” He turned to the woman and gave a bow with all of the extra flourishes. “And we would be happy to pay for the opportunity, of course. The man makes gold. Name your price, any at all.”

Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh as he was pulled along by Jefferson through the woman’s home while traveler babbled on about their stay. Escorted through a neighboring room and then out into the courtyard, his friend refused to relinquish his hold, even after they entered the courtyard itself. 

Outside the air felt warmer, though the area was nearly covered in the same green roofing as the rest of the house and so provided shade. Only a square of sky was allowed to show through in the center of the space, leaving an equally angular shape of sunlight to travel along the ground. Polished wooden columns held the beams in place overhead, and the tile beneath their feet helped to create an echo of footsteps that seemed to bounce off of everything around them. Their host stopped at the entrance to a small building at the opposite side from which they had entered and gestured inside.

Dragging his friend with him, Jefferson all but barged through the door, his grin splitting his face wide. Before them was a small room with a spiral stair that went downward, carved directly out of the rock beneath their feet. Shelves held folded cloth, but there were no furnishings.

“The color comes from minerals left over from past eruptions,” the woman explained as she handed each of them a towel. “Those minerals are what we believe maintains your youth. Of course, the immortal Dark One wouldn’t need-”

“The immortal Dark One needs quiet,” Rumple told her as he flapped a hand the way they had come. “The best way to provide that is to let _him_ get on with his luxuries.” He next thumbed over his shoulder at Jefferson, who had finally released him and was already undressing.

The woman lowered her head quickly. “Of course. I will tell my husband you are here.” She backed away from him as if he were royalty, turning only once she reached the end of the columned courtyard, where she quickly vanished.

“So who are we waiting for?” Now as naked as the day he was born, Jefferson hurried down the stairs and into the watery cave below. Rumple watched as he settled into the water, moaning and stretching his long body out in the shallow end of the pool so that nothing was left to the imagination.

“Have you _no_ shame?” Rumple muttered as he followed, still fully clothed, and looking pointedly away.

“Local culture,” Jefferson reminded him. “Means as little to them as a handshake.”

Rumple narrowed his eyes even though Jefferson couldn’t see him. “I’ll keep my hands where they are.”

“Shame,” Jefferson retorted. “Hard to talk privately when you’re halfway out the door. Besides, aren’t you roasting in all of those clothes? The heat in here is almost unbearable.”

“A perk of being the Dark One,” huffed Rumple. When nothing was said afterward, he turned to see Jefferson giving him a look of utter disbelief.

Growling, Rumple gave a flourish of his hand that simultaneously removed his clothing and transported him to the deepest area of the pool, where the somewhat cloudy water managed to conceal at least part of his body from view. “Happy?” He sneered, though he was actually grateful for Jefferson’s unexpected tact. If no one would consider looking at the Dark One as he wandered their streets, they would certainly leave him undisturbed in a place like this.

Jefferson’s eyes wandered over Rumple’s body and his lips quirked slightly at the corners. “Almost.” He moved from where he reclined to join Rumple in the deeper water, settling himself onto the carved bench hidden well below the surface, then spread his arms over the pool’s edge. Smooth skin brushed against Rumple’s back when Jefferson’s arm snaked behind him and the man’s hip touched his own under the milky green water, but the Dark One refused to allow himself to pull away. He would grant the man what pleasures he could while he still could, before everything changed.

“So, this maid…” The words were suggestive and alluring, accompanied by the brush of skin against skin that made a shiver crawl over Rumplestiltskin’s body despite the heat. “She’s a good dancer.”

“Hadn’t known that until this evening,” Rumple told him, hoping the shortness of his reply would prevent further questioning.

It didn’t, of course. The Hatter’s boyish grin only widened at hearing this news. “Glad to be of service. If there is anything else I can do for you-”

“You can leave the conversation where it is. Her business in my castle isn’t yours,” Rumple grumbled back.

Jefferson moved away then, not far, but gave himself distance enough to turn and face him properly. “She’s changing you.” His hands flew up to ward off objections before they could begin. “I don’t mean in a bad way. You’re still the same Dark One, just… different.”

“Different how?” Rumplestiltskin frowned at him and ran the day’s events through his mind, hoping to find said differences. He’d been a show off that evening, perhaps, but since the curse had taken him, hadn’t he always enjoyed brandishing his newly acquired wealth and talents around for all to see? Perhaps it was some other tell, something that could be mistaken for a weakness. Favoritism? A hint of kindness? Those things could be easily amended if-

“We used to have fun with each other. Conversation, suggestions….”

Jefferson’s words weren’t what Rumplestiltskin expected and he lifted his eyes from the water to find them caught by the traveler’s own. They were lighter than he remembered, a kind of crystal blue that seemed more fanciful than real. Probably a trick of the water that surrounded them, Rumple reminded himself sharply. They held no attraction to him, there was absolutely _nothing_ about blue eyes that should make his heart flutter in his chest the way it now was, or cause part of him to stiffen beneath the water.

“Words that meant nothing and went nowhere,” Rumplestiltskin reminded him, recalling all of their past exchanges. “A game between two people who had been alone for too long, nothing more. You found your wife, had Grace-”

“And now you have your ‘maid.’” Jefferson absolutely beamed as he said it, teasing with posture as well as the emphasis on the final word. His eyes batted and drifted skyward in a terrible mimicry of someone lost in love, then fell back to Rumple again before his smile softened. “Whether it meant anything or not, you still enjoyed yourself. So did I. Now I just need to know… Tell me truthfully, for the sake of my own sanity and to grant me the ability to remain comfortable with my old friend, _do_ I need to step away? Should I relinquish my old position so that Belle can take that place?”

Rumple bolted from his seat, forgetting about the protective cover of the water in favor of having an opportunity to glare threateningly down at the man who claimed to be his friend. “Belle?! What does _she_ have to do with all of _this_?”

“Enough,” Jefferson said, eyes lowering to where the water lapped around Rumple’s hips. “I’d like to say that what I see coming up out of the water is all because of me, but I think we both know that isn’t true.”

Defeated, Rumplestiltskin sank back into place, releasing a long breath and all of his defenses with it. As a young boy he remembered seeing children his own age laughing and telling stories, teasing each other and playing. He remembered teens who bragged about conquests with their peers or who collectively swooned over some attractive form from a distance, discussing their beauty with friends who wholeheartedly agreed. Likewise, there had been just as many others who shared tears and consolations after the pains of departure, separation, or some other loss. Once he had longed to have those moments in his life and now he wondered at what point he had turned those dreams away.

“There is something about that woman,” he whispered, feeling his heart pound in his chest as the confession finally escaped him. “I brought her because her knowledge of ancient language was rumored to be unparalleled. I needed her for that, but _she_ insists I brought her because I needed companionship. She talks constantly and argues against everything I say. When she’s quiet, she follows me around the castle like a starving pup, waiting for me to toss a scrap in its direction.”

“It _has_ been a long time between Ogre wars,” Jefferson reminded him in a respectfully subdued tone. Rumple turned to look at him and found a sad, concerned expression gazing back. His friend knew loneliness and they both knew the number of years each had gone without. The evidence spoke for itself.

“She has a truthfulness that is infuriating, yet I can’t bring myself to lash out at her. I soak it all in, like a lizard basking in the sunshine. I have never felt such pleasure in contributing to petty arguments or actively seeking out things of interest that will begin heated debates. Present company excluded, of course.”

Jefferson’s smile crept back and for the first time, finally reached his eyes. The kindness within him was overpowering, flooding through the water and wrapping Rumplestiltskin up into a form of love and security he’d never experienced before, not even with Milah or Cora. He found himself pouring his thoughts into that kindness, rambling on about Belle’s mind, her witty nature, and even how beautiful she was when wrapped up in even the deepest of her tempers.

“It’s all right to believe someone is beautiful, even if you can’t have them,” Jefferson commented once Rumple had finished. The unspoken meaning hung between them, heavy and awkward, both wanted and rejected at the same time.

Rumple felt the corners of his mouth twitch, but couldn’t manage the smile that wanted to grow. “Perhaps.”

“Dark One!” The call entered from the room upstairs and bounced off of the walls of the natural bath they sat in. “My wife says you wished to speak with me!”

With a simple flick of the wrist, Rumplestiltskin transported himself and Jefferson into the changing room above, making sure that they stood behind the man who was seeking them. Dressed and as dry as if they had never been submerged in the healing pool, the Dark One and the traveler cleared their throats as one. The sound surprised the fisherman, who leapt into the air like a startled cat.

“My friend and I were admiring your home from the docks. Big place for a simple fisherman,” the Dark one commented. “I think your nets might have brought in something other than fish.”

The impish words drained the color from the man’s face. “What do you want of me?”

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. “My friend is looking for only a simple trinket, really. A bottle of something often hard to come by.”

The fisherman swallowed. “I will provide what I can, of course,” they were told. 

“Good,” Rumple flashed a grin as his hopes returned. “Then tell me… What is the local price for squid ink?”


End file.
